trail past the monastery
of San Sebastian, came a brilliant cavalcade. Abul Malek led, seated
upon an Arabian steed whiter than the clouds which lay piled above the
westward mountains. His two sons, Hassam and Elzemah, followed astride
horses as black as night--horses the distinguished pedigrees of which
were cited in the books of Ibn Zaid. Back of them came one hundred
swarthy warriors on other coal-black mounts, whose flashing sides
flung back the morning rays. Their flowing linen robes were like the
snow, and from their turbans gleamed gems of value. Each horseman bore
at his girdle a purse, a kerchief, and a poinard; and in their purses
lay two thousand dinars of gold. Slaves brought up the rear of
the procession, riding asses laden with bales, and they led fifty
blood-red bays caparisoned as for a tournament.

With scowling glances at the monastery the band rode on across the
valley, climbed to the pass, and disappeared. After many days they
arrived at Cordova, then when they had rested and cleansed themselves,
Abul Malek craved audience of the Caliph, Aboul-Abbas El Hakkam. Being
of distinguished reputation, his wish was quickly granted; and on the
following day in the presence of the Hadjeb, the viziers, the white
and black eunuchs, the archers, and the cuirassiers of the guard, he
made a gift to his sovereign of those hundred northern horsemen and
their mounts, those fifty blooded bays and their housings, those bales
of aloe-wood and camphor, those silken pieces and those two thousand
dinars of yellow Catalonian gold. This done, he humbly craved a
favor in return, and when bade to speak, he began by telling of the
indignities rendered him by the monks of San Sebastian.

"Five generations my people have dwelt upon our lands, serving the
true God and His Prophet," he declared, with quivering indignation;
"but now those idolaters have come. They gibe and they mock at me
beneath my very window. My prayers are broken by their yammerings;
they defile my casement, and the stench of their presence assails my
nostrils."

"What do you ask of me?" inquired the Caliph.

"I ask for leave to cleanse my doorstep."

The illustrious Moslem shook his head, whereat Abul Malek cried:

"Does not the Koran direct us to destroy the unbelieving and the
impious? Must I then suffer these infidels to befoul my garden?"

"God is merciful; it is His will that for a time the Unbelievers shall
appear to flourish," said the Caliph. "We